


please let me die swiftly tonight

by astralitte



Series: please let me die [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Get together fic, Humour, M/M, Post P5R, STRONG LANGUAGE GUYS, goro has a lot of thoughts, love and bonds, no beta we burn like goro on 10/25
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25159174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralitte/pseuds/astralitte
Summary: When Goro agreed to Akira’s request of a sleepover at Leblanc, he clearly had selective hearing because the only words that he remembered were “sleepover at my place”. Now that he is outside Leblanc, an hour earlier than Akira told him to be, his overnight bag stuffed with clothes and snacks in one hand and an extremely well-thought excuse for why he was so early in the other, Goro suddenly remembers with profound clarity that what Akira actually said was: “Hey, wanna come to a sleepover at my place? The others wanna get to know you better.”Also: in which the PTs play 'never have I ever'.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: please let me die [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849345
Comments: 32
Kudos: 303
Collections: Day 5 - Love and Bonds





	please let me die swiftly tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day Three of Soft Goro Week 2020! [It comes with an art collab by the superb Ermina!!!](https://twitter.com/Ermina_29/status/1283613808494346241?s=19)
> 
> Thank you everyone in the Soft Goro Week Discord, especially my bros. You know who you are ♥ Also, special shout out to K who had thoughts for this fic ♥♥♥
> 
> 'Bomino's' was intentional; please accept. Also, Hawaiian pizza is known as Tropical pizza in Japan, so...

When Goro agreed to Akira’s request of a sleepover at Leblanc, he clearly had selective hearing because the only words that he remembered were “sleepover at my place”. Now that he is outside Leblanc, an hour earlier than Akira told him to be, his overnight bag stuffed with clothes and snacks in one hand and an extremely well-thought excuse for why he was so early in the other, Goro suddenly remembers with profound clarity that what Akira actually said was: “Hey, wanna come to a sleepover at my place? The others wanna get to know you better.”

 _Fuck,_ Goro thinks. _What have I done?_

Unfortunately for Goro, before he gets the chance to turn away and send Akira a text that something has come up so he can no longer attend the sleepover, the door bursts open and out spills Futaba.

“Yo, Goro!” she greets, a touch too friendly for Goro’s comfort despite the fact that he once had many fans who were friendlier to the point of being handsy, and Goro wonders if the now disbanded Phantom Thieves will think any less of him for pretending to have a bad stomachache and fleeing the scene of what will be his impending doom.

But, once more, he doesn’t get the chance.

“Akira,” Futaba hollers back into the empty store. “Goro’s here!”

There is a muffled shout in reply, so Akira must be upstairs. Goro, holding back a sigh, steps into the store and puts himself into the hands of fate. He hopes that it will be nice to him. It wasn’t once, but he tries to think that it is now—why else would he be alive?—even though he doesn’t deserve it.

Footsteps thump down the stairs, then Ryuji’s blond hair pokes out at an awkward angle. “Sup, Goro!”

 _How the hell isn’t he falling down_ , Goro thinks, but he holds up a stiff hand in greeting and smiles an even stiffer smile.

Futaba slaps him on the back. “Lighten up, dude,” she says. “It’ll be fun!”

Goro is momentarily disorientated by three things: one, Futaba is comfortable enough with him that she’s just made body contact with him, two, she seems to have somehow seen through his own discomfort, and three, she is actually being nice to him about it.

She must have hit her head, Goro decides, or maybe they’ve ended up in another false reality and she’s forgotten that he killed her mother. Maybe both. Or maybe Futaba hacked into his browser history and saw him searching ‘how to become friends with someone whose mother you killed because you’re an idiot and your father is an asshole’. Yup. That seems more likely. Terrifying. But likely.

When the thoughts pass, all that comes out of Goro’s mouth is a strangled ‘heh heh’, which earns him a beam from Futaba and another smack on the back.

 _Please let me die swiftly tonight,_ Goro thinks.

x

Upstairs, Goro realises that his excuse for being early that he spent ages practicing in front of the mirror has been for nothing. About half of the Akigang (look, nobody can stop Goro from calling them that in his head, okay?) arrived before Goro, and the only ones missing are Sumire, Makoto, Haru, and Ann.

“Hey, Goro!” the present Akigang, Akira inclusive, chorus. It’s a pity that nobody bothers to ask him why he’s so early.

“You can put your bag there,” Akira tells Goro helpfully. He points to a corner of the attic where there is a pile of haphazardly stacked backpacks and sleeping bags. It didn’t even occur to Goro to bring one. He just sort of ~~assumed~~ wished really hard that he might be sharing a bed with Akira.

Goro pads over to the pile and carefully puts his bag on top of it. He tries to crack his brain for a new excuse. He goes through about ten different ones. None of them are helpful. He wishes that someone will one day tell him why his brain is always so useless whenever he actually needs to use it on the fly in front of the Akigang. Or Akira, more specifically.

 _Maybe,_ Goro thinks, _they’ll believe me if I tell them that a dog with a dagger came up to me and snatched my sleeping bag. Well, Akira and Ryuji might. Morgana sure as hell will not buy it._

“You alright there?” Morgana meows impatiently. “You’re taking an awfully long time just to put down your bag.”

Goro turns around, flushing by the neck. “I don’t have a sleeping bag,” he says lamely.

“Neither do I,” Yusuke says, far more casually than Goro can ever hope to accomplish, “which is why I’m taking the couch. You can share the bed with Akira. I’m sure he doesn’t mind.”

“Uh,” Goro replies. He looks to Akira for a reaction, but of course Akira happens to be facing the window, tapping away on his phone.

Futaba comes up behind Goro and slaps him on the back again. He stumbles forward, wincing and wondering how the hell such a tiny little person can pack so much strength. “Yeah, you can just sleep with Akira,” she tells him. “Right, Akira?”

“Yeah, sure,” Akira answers distractedly. He continues typing frantically on his phone for another two seconds, then goes, “And ordered!” He turns back to everyone else, waving his phone at them.

“Heck yeah, bro!” Ryuji shouts, pumping his fist into the air.

Yusuke’s stomach growls audibly, so Goro deduces that it has to be food. It’s a bit hard to see the phone screen clearly, but the website’s logo looks like it could be Bomino’s. Goro scrunches his nose.

“Pizza is disgusting and unhealthy,” he complains. “There’s so much grease in it.”

Ryuji tries to discreetly glance at Goro’s butt. His horrible acting only makes it more obvious to the rest of the Akigang that he’s outright staring at it, but Goro remains completely oblivious. “Uh, dude,” Ryuji says, “you sure you don’t eat pizza?”

Futaba is the first to choke on her spit and burst into laughter. “What the hell, Ryuji?” she splutters.

Goro gives Futaba an odd look and chooses to ignore her. He doesn’t understand why she’s reacting to a normal question so strongly. He isn’t sure he cares to know. “I don’t really like pizza,” Goro answers earnestly, “but I’ll eat them if I have to.”

“Anyway,” Yusuke interrupts after clearing his throat, “may I ask what you have ordered?”

“Please tell me you didn’t fucking order Tropical again,” Futaba begs.

Akira tugs at his fringe—which Goro has always found irresistibly cute but also makes Goro want to set Akira on fire at the same time—as he double checks his phone. “I got us three large pizzas since they were on offer. Giga Meat, Charcoal Grilled Chiki-Teri, annnnnnd Tropical!”

 _Doesn’t this attic trash know that many Italians consider pineapple on pizza sacrilege?_ Goro thinks, but nobody can hear his thoughts, so nobody asks him why he knows this fact about pizza.

“Pineapple! On! Pizza! Is! Not! Okay!” Futaba screams, loud enough to break Goro’s eardrums.

Despite his ears ringing, Goro completely agrees with the sentiment. Why on earth do people even like such a thing? It’s actually disgusting. Just thinking about the sweet, tangy, and savoury taste that pineapple creates when combined with pizza sends shivers down Goro’s spine. He hates feeling the stringy texture of pineapple while munching on the chewy texture of the pizza crust. Goro gags, thinking about it.

“Tropical pizza is delicious,” Akira states, rolling his eyes. “It makes no sense when you hate that but love Teriyaki sauce on pizza. The taste is similar! You know what? You’re probably just jumping onto a bandwagon. That’s why you hate it, you basic bitch.”

 _Wait,_ Goro thinks. _He actually likes Tropical pizza non-ironically? Fuck, I should seriously rethink my crush on him._

Lost in thought, Goro doesn’t notice when Futaba pounces on Akira and tries to scratch his face off.

x

After the rest of the Akigang arrive and they have scarfed down the pizza—Futaba being the _only_ person who doesn’t eat a single slice of the Tropical pizza—Haru claps her hands together and says, “I want to play a game.”

“Is it me or did she just sound like Jigsaw from Saw?” Ann asks timidly. Goro doesn’t get the reference, but the Akigang, Goro included, exchange glances.

Haru just keeps grinning at all of them with her polite smile, so nobody dares to reply Ann. Eventually, Sumire, bless her heart, presses her hands together to mirror Haru and asks, “So, what do you have in mind?”

“Oh, don’t look so scared,” Haru chuckles. “Have you guys played ‘Never Have I Ever’?”

Goro hasn’t, though he chooses not to say anything in case it outs him for not having had a normal teenage life. It’s a fact that he’s sure the rest of them already know, but he doesn’t need to give them any more ammunition. Nobody reminds him that no one in the room is a normal teenager.

“I’ve played it once,” Makoto tells them. “Eiko really likes that game.”

A lightbulb seems to pop above Futaba head. She raises her hand energetically and bounces on her seat. “Oh, oh, oh! Isn’t it the one where people take a shot of alcohol whenever someone says something that they’ve not done before? We should totally do that!”

“Eh, we don’t have alcohol,” Ryuji says. “Want me to run to the convenience store?”

“We’re not getting alcohol,” Akira counters. He circles a finger around the room at everyone. “No one in this room is even at the legal drinking age.”

“Soon,” Makoto mumbles under her breath. “ _Soon._ ”

“I have ways to get us some,” Haru says, at the same time Futaba shouts, “We can break into Sojiro’s liquor cabinet!”

Goro looks to Yusuke, who has barely said a word since they ate. The artist seems well aware of what’s going on; he keeps looking back and forth between everyone and his sketchpad, his pencil darting across the paper. Goro leans over to peek at the drawing, but it’s so abstract that Goro can’t make sense of it.

“We’re not getting alcohol!” Akira declares, slamming his hands on the floor.

“Boo, you whore,” Ann whines, and Akira flips her off in reply.

“Not to worry,” Haru pipes. “There’s a different way to play this game. We can each hold up all ten fingers and put down one whenever we lose a point. And I suppose the first person who loses all ten fingers—” Goro shivers at the mental image “—will have to do a penalty that everyone else decides on.”

“I don’t have ten fingers to hold up!” Morgana complains.

“I need to draw,” Yusuke states.

When Haru’s eyes light up with what seems to be murderous intent, Futaba snatches the sketchpad from Yusuke’s hands and tears out a page from the back of the book. She passes the book back to Yusuke, who just flips back to the page he was drawing on and continues.

“There,” Futaba says. “We can use this to keep track for you two and anyone who decides that they want to be a lazy ass and not hold up their fingers halfway through the game.”

“Yay!” Haru exclaims.

“So, how do we play this?” Sumire asks, and Goro suddenly feels like there is a small possibility that a part of himself had been a normal teenager.

“Someone says something that they’ve never done before, like ‘never have I ever been to the aquarium in Okinawa’, right?” Ryuji says. “And like, if someone has done that, they lose a point, yeah?”

“You sweet summer child,” Makoto heaves. “But yes, that’s it.”

Goro lets out a small sigh. He feels like an idiot after having a moron explain something to him. He gets that it’s unavoidable that Ryuji knows something that he doesn’t, really, but that doesn’t change how he feels.

“So,” Akira says, “does someone start and we each take a turn until someone loses?”

The second Futaba nods her head, panic starts to course through Goro’s veins.

 _What the heck am I even supposed to say?_ Goro thinks. _Wait. Never mind. That’s easy. I’ve basically never done anything in my life. I’m going to win this game!_

“Ryuji,” Ann says, “you go first. We’ll go clockwise.”

“Huh?” Ryuji retorts. “Why the hell does it have to be me?”

“Just do it, dumbass,” she replies. “Fingers!”

Ryuji grumbles as he holds up both hands. “Fine, whatever.” When he sees that everyone else in the room, apart from Yusuke and Morgana, has done so as well, he continues with, “Never have I ever used someone else’s toothbrush.” Half of the people in the room throw Ryuji a weird look, but not a single person puts down a finger. He shrugs, then looks to his left. “Your turn, bro.”

“Bro,” Akira says, “that was a sad start.” He glances at Ann and tilts his head with a smile. “Anyway, never have I ever dined and dashed.”

Ann lets out a scream. “It was one time! One. Time. And I forgot my wallet! You’ll regret this, Akira. I swear.” Reluctantly, she puts down a finger.

Futaba snickers, but Goro notices Haru putting down a finger as well. He wonders why she has done something like that, considering how filthy rich she is. But everyone else’s attention is still on Ann, so Goro chooses not to bring it up.

“I guess it’s my turn,” Sumire says. “Never have I ever… Hmm… Never have I ever _not_ cried in public!”

“Huh?” Ryuji says, to which Futaba replies, “Put your finger down if you’ve never cried in public, dumbass. And what the heck, Sumire. What kind of confession is that?”

“Can we please avoid double negatives?” Makoto sighs. “My brain cells don’t want to function today.”

Sumire only giggles. “I just thought that I’d try something different. Well, at least we know who has cried in public!”

“I’ve not,” Yusuke says, so Sumire reaches for the pen and paper in the middle of the group and makes a mark next to his name.

Goro takes a look around the room. Apart from Yusuke, it seems like Haru is the only person who hasn’t, which surprises Goro. He would have thought that Akira might have never cried in public as well. But Goro has a brain and knows that it probably isn’t a good idea to single out Akira and ask him what had made him cry before.

“Goro, your turn,” Morgana says in that annoying voice of his.

“Um,” Goro starts. He’s caught off-guard, forgetting that he is sitting next to Sumire, so he says the first thing that comes to his mind, blushing by the end of his sentence: “N-never have I ever… held someone’s hand.”

The silence in the room suddenly becomes so prominent that Goro swears he can hear the water from the bathhouse nearby running. Even Yusuke’s pencil has halted, and he’s staring at Goro with intensity.

 _Fuck,_ Goro thinks. _Why is everyone looking at me? Did I say something wrong? Shit. I wonder if there’s a shovel in this room that I can use to dig my own grave. Urrrrrrrrrgh._

Makoto is the first person to speak. “I’m sorry for calling you a sweet summer child, Ryuji. That title is clearly meant for Goro.”

“I have,” Yusuke says, so Goro takes the opportunity to duck from everyone’s gaze and reach forward to grab the pen, putting a point down for Yusuke. Goro still feels them looking at him though. He feels his cheeks heating up again. He stares at the wooden floor, wishing that they’d just move on already.

“I have too,” Morgana meows.

“The fuck?” Ryuji shouts. “How the fuck have you even held hands? You don’t even have hands!”

Morgana sniffs at him. “A gentleman never reveals his secrets!”

Goro draws a line next to Morgana’s name. He drops the pen on the paper and shuffles back to his original seat. At the same moment, Akira looks away and scratches his own cheek, which makes Goro belatedly realise that he’s just stuck his ass up in the air in front of them.

 _I said let me die swiftly tonight,_ Goro thinks, _not grill me slowly to death, for fuck’s sake._

“Looks like you got a point from everyone,” Futaba says to Goro. She raises a hand, making Goro pre-wince, and slaps him hard on the back. “Good job, dude!”

Nobody tells Goro that his expression looks more like a spasm than a smile.

“Alright, losers,” Futuba goes on, “I got one for you all. Never have I ever sucked face!”

Collectively, the rest of the Akigang groans. Apart from Morgana and Yusuke, everyone else starts to drop a finger one by one. When Akira does so as well, Goro chews on the inside of his cheek and wonders who had been the lucky person, or people, to have ‘sucked face’ with Akira before. Also, why hasn’t he had a chance to suck face with Akira yet?

 _Is it because my ass is so fat?_ Goro thinks. _Or is it because I’ve never told him about my feelings because I’m a coward and I probably don’t deserve to be liked by someone whom I’ve tried to kill?_

“I have,” Yusuke says. He’s back to drawing now, his interest once again on his sketchpad.

Futaba mwehehehes and gives Yusuke a point. She winks at Goro as she sits back, which stuns Goro so much that he tells himself he must have imagined it.

x

Twenty questions later, Goro is the only person who still has both hands in the air. Thus far, he’s only lost two points. The first to Ryuji, who had proclaimed that he had never had more than five pancakes in one sitting, and the second to Haru, who had casually mentioned that she had never gone a day without food. Goro wasn’t the only person who lost a point to Haru though. Akira, Yusuke, and Futaba did as well.

“Never have I ever read Featherman smut about Red Hawk and Black Condor,” Futaba announces, and Goro promptly begins to choke on his water.

“Are you okay?” Sumire asks. She pats his back, which is kind of nice, considering that Goro’s back has been stinging a little and is also probably very red from Futaba’s friendly abuse.

“I’m fine,” Goro manages to squeak. He feels his face burning, so much so that he imagines his face looking like what it did when he used to wear the mask of his old costume: scarlet as fuck. He avoids everyone’s eye contact as he shakily puts down one finger.

“I was wondering if you’d admit to that,” Futaba cackles with a shit-eating grin. With that, Goro is pretty damned sure that she has looked through his browser history at some point.

 _Fuck,_ Goro thinks. _I really fucking hope that she didn’t see me searching how to confess my feelings to someone whom I tried to kill._

Of course, nobody tells Goro that she has. Nobody needs to.

“Bro, you ship Red and Black too?” Ryuji says, awed. “Akira too!” He grabs Akira’s hand and leans over both Akira and Sumire, holding out Akira’s open hand to Goro.

Goro stares at the hand for the long moment, wondering what the hell he is expected to do. Then, Futaba snatches Goro’s hand and helps Ryuji to complete a high-five between Akira and Goro. It makes Goro ask himself why the hell he decided that he would try to become friends with them again even though they thought that he was dead after Maruki’s fake reality.

Oh, wait. That was Futaba’s fault. Wait, no. It was Akira’s fault because he had seen Goro at the train station. It was Futaba’s fault that she had managed to source where Goro was. So that meant that it was Goro’s own fault for not covering his track well enough.

 _Damn me,_ Goro thinks.

“It’s the best ship out there,” Akira states unabashedly, his eyes shining with excitement. “In season six, when Red realises that Black had betrayed them because he—”

Yusuke sets down his pencil with a resolute ‘smack’. “I have thought of something,” he interrupts elegantly. He nods to himself at his self-found brilliance. “Never have I ever commissioned for another artist to compose a piece for me that features an anthropomorphic character.”

“The fuck?” Ryuji says.

“Uh,” Futaba says. “Inari, why don’t you call it furry art like a normal person?”

“Oh, I’ve actually done that before,” Haru says.

Every head in the room swerves to Haru, and all she does is shrug. Then, noise erupts from around Goro, each person questioning Haru basically the same thing. The most audible one is Akira, maybe because Goro’s attention has been fixated on him since the high-five:

“What made you do that?”

Haru giggles behind her hand. “Calm down.” She flaps her other hand at the Akigang, who definitely do not calm down. “I like fluffy things and I have money, so why not use it to support some artists?”

“She said _artists_ ,” Makoto points out to no one in particular. “That means more than one.”

“Haru,” Sumire swallows, worried that she might come across as judgy. She doesn’t actually mind if Haru does like it. It’s just that she’s curious. She’s also sure that everyone else wants to know. “Does that mean you like those kind of furry stuff…?”

 _Why the fuck am I here,_ Goro thinks.

Haru looks taken aback. “What? No! I only wanted to know what the artists thought I would look like as a human sheep.”

“Wait,” Akira cuts in, turning to Yusuke. “Hey, does asking you for those skill cards count as commissioning furry art?”

“HOW THE HELL DO SKILL CARDS EVEN COUNT AS FURRY ART?” Futaba screams.

Akira shrugs at her. “I don’t know,” he grumbles, folding his arms. “How does a persona have a massive dick for a body?”

Goro rubs his face with his hand, hard.

“Is that why you never let us hold or look at the cards?” Morgana purrs, to which Akira answers with some sort of rumbling noise.

“Hmm,” Yusuke hums in thought. “I have never thought of them as furry art.”

Ann wraps her arms around herself and shivers despite the warmth radiating from the heater. “Let’s just let Akira keep his point and never talk about this again,” she says.

“Annnnnd moving on,” Makoto sighs, “because I now require bleach to cleanse my brain of something that I never needed to know.” She pauses to sigh. “Never have I ever stared at Ann’s breasts.”

“Did you just skip over Lady Ann and me?” Morgana roars, but nobody bothers to reply him.

“I have,” Yusuke says. He has picked up his pencil again and started on a new page. That’s three pages now, Goro notes offhandedly. Three pages of weird abstract art that Goro still can’t wrap his head around.

“Seriously, Makoto?” Ryuji groans. “You’re really gonna out us like that?”

Akira shuts his eyes like he’s just seen god and very dramatically lowers his second last finger.

 _Shit,_ Goro thinks. _Does that mean he’s into girls? But I thought that he—_

Goro stops himself from thinking further, shaking his head. Now isn’t the time to think about something that might cause him to spiral into depression just because his crush doesn’t like him back. He’ll think about that tomorrow. Or later tonight when everyone else is sleep. It will be easy to excuse himself and go downstairs if he needs to cry.

“Akira’s down to one!” Futaba exclaims. “Who’s going to be the one to take down our fearless leader?” And, of course, she has to punctuate her question with yet another whack to Goro’s back.

Taking a look around the room, Goro takes note of everyone’s points. They’d started at ten points. He himself is at seven. Yusuke, Morgana, and Makoto at five. Ann and Futaba at four. Ryuji at three. Haru and, surprisingly, Sumire at two. Akira is the only one with a single point left.

 _At least,_ Goro thinks, _I’m winning._

Nobody tells Goro that having that many points might not really count as winning. In fact, some people would crown him as the loser of the game. But, again, nobody tells Goro that.

“I’ve got one,” Sumire says, eyes glinting.

Akira’s eyes widens, and he immediately starts shaking his head at her. “Sumire,” he growls, “don’t you _dare._ ”

Sumire flashes him a set of pearly white teeth. “I’m sorry, senpai, but you have to take one for the team!” She leans towards the Akigang, sharing a look with each person in the room to build the suspense. “Never have I ever,” she says, and Akira buries his face into his hands, “lied in this game!”

Ann bursts into laughter as she puts down a finger. Futaba mwehehehehehehes and puts down one as well. Everyone else looks at the three liars, thin lipped. Even Yusuke has stopped sketching.

 _What the fuck,_ Goro thinks. _What the fuck. We can lie in this game? What the fuck._

“To think that my own kouhai would betray me,” Akira mourns in exasperation. “I have been betrayed, but yes. Take my last point away, why don’t you.”

 _What the fuck_ , Goro thinks.

“Bro, when did you lie?” Ryuji asks.

Akira flings his arm out and covers Sumire’s mouth before she spills his secret. It is too bad for him, however, that most people in the room are already aware of it:

“He lied when Ann said that she had never spent—” Morgana starts, and Futaba continues gleefully with, “—more than five minutes staring at her crush’s ass in front of her friends.”

“That was such a dead giveaway,” Ann cackles. “Everyone knows whose ass you’re staring at, Akira.”

“Am I the only person who doesn’t effin’ know?” Ryuji shouts.

Akira involuntarily lets his eyes land on Goro for a split second before he trains them on Futaba. He grabs the nearest object to him, which happens to be the piece of paper tallying their scores, crushes it, and flings it Futaba. She dodges it with ease, still laughing manically.

 _Oh,_ Goro thinks. _Oh._

Makoto is the only person who remains unimpressed. “Right,” she says without emotion. “What’s going to be his punishment?”

“I have an idea!” Haru chimes, raising her hand.

“This is gon’ be gooooood,” Futaba cackles.

“Oh god,” Akira weeps. “Please god, anyone but her.”

Yusuke closes his sketchpad with a slam and drops it onto his own lap. “Those in favour of Haru deciding Akira’s punishment say ‘I’!” he declares.

Minus Akira, everyone sings, “I!” Goro only joins along out of morbid curiosity and definitely not because Haru looks like she might hire a mafia to kidnap any person who dares to disagree with her choosing the penalty.

“Aw, thank you everyone!” she beams. She steeples her fingers together as she considers Akira, then Goro, then Akira once more.

 _Please let me die swiftly tonight,_ Goro can’t help but think again.

“I’m sorry, Goro,” Haru says to him, “but I’m afraid you’ll have no choice but to be involved.” She turns to Akira. “Akira, for lying to your dear friends, I sentence you to kiss Goro for ten seconds straight.”

 _Wait, what,_ Goro thinks.

“What,” Akira says.

“Fuck yeah,” Futaba cheers.

“Eurgh,” Morgana gags.

“Yay!” Sumire encourages.

“Finally,” Ann sighs.

“I must draw this,” Yusuke states.

“Huh?” Ryuji exclaims.

“Hurry up,” Makoto hisses.

“What,” Goro thinks aloud.

Haru taps at the imaginary watch on her wrist. “Tick tock, boys!”

In fear of angering Haru, Akira scrambles past Sumire and prostates himself before Goro. “I’m so sorry,” Akira whispers.

 _I’ve never kissed anyone before,_ Goro thinks.

“We just have to press our lips to each other for ten seconds, right?” Goro asks with a nervous laugh.

“That’s right!” Haru chirps.

Akira dips his head so that his face is partially covered by his fringe. He’s blushing, Goro can tell. But just as Goro is about to say that Akira has nothing to blush about since he’s kissed someone before, Akira mutters, his words clumsily tripping over each other, “I actually really like you, Goro. Please forgive me.”

 _Oh,_ Goro thinks. _He likes me back._

And then, Goro feels himself being kissed.

It’s not what he imagines, not that he’s ever really imagined anyone kissing him. Why would anyone anyway? But here Akira is, his lips so inexplicably soft against Goro’s that Goro suddenly remembers how flighty Akira can be, suddenly realises that this is his chance and that he has to take it.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Goro pushes his lips back against Akira’s. The gasp that spills from Akira is a wonderful sound, but Goro barely has time to think about it because Akira is grabbing onto Goro’s shirt and leaning deeper into the kiss. Unable to help himself, Goro’s hands reach upwards, threading his fingers to Akira’s messy, ridiculous hair.

Because they’re so close together, the bridge of Akira’s glasses pushes uncomfortably into Goro’s nose. Goro ignores that in favour of reminding himself to keep his grip loose, but when Goro hears another sigh from Akira and himself humming back in response, his hands twitch and tug on Akira’s hair.

 _I should have done that earlier,_ Goro thinks, because suddenly, Akira’s lips have parted and his tongue has darted out, licking Goro’s lips for permission. Goro obliges—of course he does. He has no idea what he is doing, and all he knows right now—his heart swelling and swelling—is that he likes Akira and Akira likes him back.

Somehow, Akira stumbles forward and ends up in Goro’s lap. Goro is quick to wrap a protective arm around Akira to stabilise the both of them. Their teeth clack together, but Akira just huffs happily into the kiss, so Goro guesses that it mustn’t matter and keeps kissing Akira as if their lives depend on it. In a way, Goro feels like it does. He feels like he’ll wake up from this insane dream that he’s always longed for but never dared to truly admit to himself.

 _I’m never letting you go,_ Goro thinks.

And then, Ryuji has to interrupt them. “Wow, dudes,” he breathes. He sounds almost as out of breath as Goro feels.

 _But I might need to kill Ryuji first,_ Goro thinks.

“Exactly sixty-nine seconds,” Futaba remarks. “Nice. Nice, nice, nice.”

Akira starts to pull away from Goro’s face, and Goro reluctantly lets him. Goro has manners, and there are people around them, even if Goro is more than willing to let Akira whisk him away. But Goro highly doubts that Akira would.

“So,” Akira says with the brightest smile that Goro has ever seen, “will you go out with me?”

Unable to give a verbal reply with everyone staring so intensely at them, all Goro does is nod his head a few times. He decides that it must be the correct reply because Akira is wrapping his arms tightly around Goro and kissing his forehead. For once, Goro feels like he belongs somewhere, like he’s finally wanted.

“You’re a part of the ‘Akigang’, you know,” Futaba suddenly whispers straight into Goro’s ear, which makes him scream a little. Only a little.

 _Screw hacking into my browser,_ Goro thinks. _She’s hacked her way into my brain._

Akira climbs off Goro as Sumire inches away, letting Akira sit snuggly next to his new boyfriend. Unconsciously, Goro rests his cheek against Akira’s hair when Akira leans his head on Goro’s shoulder.

“Please don’t try anything when we go to bed later,” Ann says.

“Oh yeah,” Morgana says. “They’re supposed to be sharing the same bed since Goro doesn’t have a sleeping bag.”

“I’d watch,” Haru tells them, and Ann scrunches her nose and sticks her tongue out.

Goro stiffens. He had honestly forgotten that. He hopes that Akira won’t mind, especially since they’re supposed to be—Goro’s face explodes into the same shade as Akira’s Metaverse gloves—boyfriends now. Is it too soon though? Will Akira mind? Goro wishes that he knew how romantic relationships work. But first, he’ll have to gather the courage to get himself through what’s going to happen.

“We’ll be quiet,” Akira says with a playful wink to their friends.

 _At least I’ll die happy tonight,_ Goro thinks.


End file.
